


Payback

by Titch360



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 01:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7665616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titch360/pseuds/Titch360
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Robin</p>
            </blockquote>





	Payback

Payback

 

“My, you are awake early, Master Damian.  Are you looking for me?”

Damian froze, his hand mere inches from the door to Alfred’s chambers.  _Oh…I bet it looks like I was about to knock on his door._   Damian turned and regarded the butler.  “Um…no.  I actually wasn’t.”  He chose to ignore Alfred’s smirk of disbelief and continued, “Pennyworth, I request to borrow a few square inches of your door for a while.”

Curiosity overriding all other emotions, Alfred asked, “Borrow my door?  Will I be getting it back?”

Damian rolled his eyes at the question and held up an envelope.  “I request to post this on your door.  It will be removed before the morning is over.  May I?”

Taking another step forward, Alfred said, “So long as there is no damage to the wood, which I must point out is older than all of the occupants of this house combined, then I see no reason why not, Master Damian.  May I ask what this is all about?”

Damian wasted no time taping the envelope to the door, then looked past the butler, down the hall, to see if anyone else saw.  Walking past the older man, he said, “Can you walk and talk at the same time?”

Hurrying to catch up with the youth, Alfred said, “I have been known to accomplish the feat before.  In a pinch, I may even be able to chew bubble gum while walking, but I may require a spotter.”

Damian ignored the sarcasm.  After leaving the hallway leading to the butler’s sanctum, they entered the kitchen.  Damian took a place at the counter while Alfred set to preparing breakfast for the family.  Damian looked at the pattern in the marble countertop as he said, “You may have noticed that I have been the butt of many jokes, tricks, mean pranks, social embarrassments, and the like?”

Alfred paused in his preparations and looked at the boy, “I have seen a thing or two.  I have also had to clean up after several more.”

Damian’s head slowly rose to meet Alfred’s face, revealing a truly evil smile.  “Today, it’s my turn.  Today, the ledgers will even out.  Today, all markers and threats and promises will be called in.  Today, I will have my revenge.”

Alfred took an involuntary step back, both from the look and the declaration of war.  Alfred suddenly felt that damage to the wood of his door would be the least of anyone’s worries at the end of the day.  The butler suddenly was acutely worried for the structural stability of Stately Wayne Manor.  With as much as Damian must have in his mental ledger, Alfred began mentally calculating the house’s stock of medical supplies.

Trying to head off any major destruction, Alfred said, “May I point out that these are your _brothers_ that you are plotting against?”

Damian met Alfred’s worried gaze with a steady one of his own, “That never stopped _them_ from coming after _me_.”

“Then, may I point out the recently harmonious attitude around the manor lately?”

“No one will come to serious harm through my actions.”

Alfred was growing desperate to preserve the status quo of the house, “Then, may I point out that you are pitting yourself against a master prankster in Master Dick?”

Damian’s smile grew, “My plot is so far above and beyond anything he has thrown at me, he will be talking about this for months.  I will be stealing his crown today.”

Alfred figured that he was not getting anywhere in convincing Damian to forget his plan, so he went for broke and pulled out the one argument that he hoped would make a difference.  “Your father is working from home today, you know.”

Damian’s eyes widened as the first hint of trepidation sank in regarding his plan.  “I…I didn’t know that.  I thought he was working from home tomorrow.”

Alfred thought he may have finally gotten through.  With a small smile, he said, “He will be home today _and_ tomorrow.”

Damian took a deep breath, “It’s too late to change anything now.  Almost everything has been put in place.”

As the glimmer of hope had shone, it was quickly snuffed out.  All Alfred could do now was set out his final warning.  “Well, if I can’t dissuade you from your path, then let me remind you that you will be responsible for cleaning up any mess you make in the house.”

“That’s okay, Pennyworth.  There will be no mess in the house, and only a small mess in the cave.  It’ll be worth it.”  Damian glanced at the clock on the wall and did a mental calculation.  Time was running out.  “I have one more thing to set up.  I have to go before they wake up.”

Damian scampered out of the kitchen, a determined smile on his face.  Alfred shook his head, wondering if the boy would be back for breakfast, or if he would go back to bed and try to feign innocence.  Either way, Alfred predicted it would be an eventful day.

_Ten Minutes Later…_

An alarm clock blared from somewhere very close to Dick’s head.  The shock of the sudden noise scared the overly drowsy man and caused him to sit up, fast.

“Ow! What the hell…ooo, cold!”

Dick sat up at the sound of the alarm, and promptly smashed his face into the wooden serving tray that had been set on top of his pillow and over his head.  The tray tipped over onto his chest, where he was hit with the offending alarm clock, and a tall glass of ice water, neatly positioned on the edge of the tray, found its way into his lap when the tray fell.

Dick rubbed his forehead as the icy water caused him to launch himself out of bed.  A moment of indecision followed in which he couldn’t decide whether he should change his pants, pull the sodden sheets from the bed, or find a mirror to check if his brow was bleeding.  A full body shiver made the decision for him; pants first.

_What sort of stupid prank is this,_ the man thought as he picked up the tray.  Moving on to other evidence, he grabbed the alarm clock.  It was an old-style, wind-up alarm clock, with two bells on the top that were beaten mercilessly by the clapper when the set time arrived.  Dick smiled at the timepiece; he hadn’t seen this type of clock since his days in the traveling circus.  The smile faded from his face as the realization dawned on him.  He had never seen this sort of clock anywhere in the manor.  It didn’t feel new, but he had certainly never noticed an antique alarm clock among the nick knacks anywhere in the manor.

Placing the clock aside and pulling the sheets from the bed before the water could soak through, into the mattress, Dick was stopped again as a black envelope fluttered to the floor.  _Where did that come from?  It must have been on the tray, and got lost in the shuffle.  Maybe now I can get some answers._

He sat down on the stripped bed and looked at the envelope.  “#1” was written in large, white numbers on the black, glossy paper.  Opening the envelope, he pulled a single half-sheet from inside.  A short note was to be found on the page, written in cut up magazine and newspaper words, in the stereotypical serial killer fashion. 

Dick had to read the note several times before it started to make any sense.  “#4 is gone today.  To find out how, you must play.  Don’t tell the Bat about our plan, it won’t make you a happy man.  To wipe the ledger white and clean, a room reveals what can’t be seen.”

Dick spoke aloud to himself, “What the hell?  Have we been invaded by the Riddler?  Was he able to determine our identities, and wants to make some massive power play?  Or, is one of the youngsters trying to play an elaborate trick on me?  Number four?  Who or what is number four?  Wait, maybe the number one on the envelope isn’t a clue number, but a Robin number.  But, who would know exactly how many Robins there have been.  Number four is gone today…”

Dick left his room and quickly made his way down the hall to Damian’s room.  _He’ll just be asleep on the other side of the door.  I’m foolish for even checking._   Dick quietly turned the knob and eased the door open a crack.  Pressing his eye to the opening, he peered inside to find the room exceedingly dark despite the sun starting to break over the horizon.  Opening the door further, Dick walked into the room on tiptoes, and approached the bed as quietly as possible.  For all that Damian had changed his behavior over the past several months, and was a much calmer and friendlier child, he was still a bear when it came to being awakened in the early morning, especially after a long patrol like the one the previous night.

Dick had to walk right up to the foot of the bed before he could see anything.  He silently cursed Bruce for allowing Damian to get the heavy blackout curtains on his window; they looked great in the daytime, but allowed absolutely no light to enter the room.  At least, until they parted and allowed a shaft of dull, dawn light to bathe the room in an inky gray glow. 

Glancing at the window, Dick saw the curtains moving.  He quickly made his way over and saw that the window was cracked open several inches.  _Damian almost never opens his window, and he absolutely never leaves it open when he isn’t in the room.  Could he actually have been kidnapped?_

He glanced at the bed and saw nothing but rumpled sheets in the dim light.  Nerves creeping back into him, he ran to the bathroom and found it empty as well.  Dick returned to the bed and saw what he hoped would lead him to the end of this sick game, another black envelope.

Dick picked up the second envelope with a shaking hand, realizing that there may now be a huge problem in the manor.  He considered running straight to Bruce, until he remembered what the first note had said, ‘Don’t tell the Bat about our plan, it won’t make you a happy man.’  _What does that mean?  Will whoever has Damian kill him if anyone else but me solves this?_

Nervously, Dick extracted a second half-sheet from the envelope.  This one was written in the same manner as the first.  He swallowed painfully as he read the riddle contained within.  “You waste his time by searching here.  He’s gone for now, but somewhere near.  Follow my clues the best you can, his life now rests in your hand.”

“This bastard will pay if he hurts my little brother; I’ll make sure of that.”  Dick read the note several more times before he realized that there were no clues in this clue.  Frantically, he pulled the first clue from his pocket and read it again.  _A room reveals what can’t be seen.  What the hell?  What can a room reveal?  The manor doesn’t have a dark room, there is no ‘Hall of Mirrors’.  What if something can’t be seen, because it’s too far away?  That would mean…_

Dick tore off, down the hall to the Observatory.  He and Bruce had spent many a night here during his youth, looking through the telescope.  The room had fallen into disuse over the past several years, but he had taken Damian there once, when Bruce was thought to be dead.  He wanted to give his brother an experience that he had shared with the boy’s father.

Entering the room, Dick walked right up to the telescope and looked for another envelope.  He looked above, below, inside, outside, and underneath, but found nothing.  Just as he was thinking he had interpreted the clue wrong, he glanced at the wall.  There, taped above the crank that opened the ceiling above the telescope, was taped another black envelope.

Dick tore open the heavy paper in a hurry, feeling that this charade had gone on far too long already.  What he found written on the paper that fluttered to the floor as pieces of the envelope went flying made his heart skip a beat.  “You took too long to find me now.  His life is fleeing, running out.  To keep another from his fate, hurry now, and don’t be late.  #3 lies in his bed, but, if you wait too long, he’ll wind up dead.”

Dick paled as he looked up from the note.  “Oh my God, Timmy!”

Convinced now that the numbers corresponded to their time as Robin, Dick felt that the only possible solution was that they had been unmasked, and the manor had been infiltrated.  He sprinted out of the room and down the hall, to Tim’s door.  He all but knocked the door down in his rush to save his middle brother, and that was what set off the trap.

In throwing open the door, Dick did two things.  First, he startled Tim awake in a manner that caused him to sit up rapidly.  Second, a string attached to the door handle was pulled.  Dick watched, too late to stop the line from tightening around the trigger of a crossbow, propped on a tripod next to the door.  The arrow flew straight and true, depositing itself in the middle of Tim’s forehead.  The teen fell back into the bed with a shout of pain. 

Dick was next to the bed in an instant, but what he found was anything but what he expected.  Tim was writhing on the mattress, his hands clamped to his forehead.  However, there was no blood to speak of, which concerned Dick.  He carefully peeled back one of the teen’s hands to see the damage.

“What the hell, Dick?  I set my alarm this morning, you didn’t have to do something like this.  That really hurt.  Where do you get the idea of shooting me with a crossbow at…”  Tim looked at the clock on his nightstand, “five forty-five in the morning?”

Dick took the teen’s other hand away from his forehead and saw the arrow was stuck to Tim’s head with a large suction cup.  He yanked, and the projectile detached with a wet pop.  Tossing it aside, Dick gathered his brother into a tight hug, a few tears leaking from his eyes.

“Thank God, you’re safe.  That was the scariest thing I’ve seen in years.”

“What are you talking about, Dick?”  Tim was confused at the reaction.  He thought the prank was another one of Dick’s practical jokes.

“Tim, we have a serious problem.  I found these around the manor.”  Dick showed Tim the clues he had found so far.  “I think there is an intruder in the manor, and I think that intruder knows who we really are.  Damian is missing, and I think you were meant to be next.”

“Don’t you think they would have used a real arrow if they wanted to get rid of me?  Or, just stab me in my sleep, and save the effort?  Let’s go tell Bruce what’s going on.  He’ll be able to get to the bottom of this.”  Tim stood up, still rubbing his head.

“No!  We can’t do that.  Read the first one again: Don’t tell the Bat.  Timmy, I’m scared.  Whoever is pulling this off is very dangerous.”

Tim took a deep breath and sat down again.  “Okay, what’s next, then?”

“I don’t know.  Turn on the light, see if there is another clue somewhere.”

Tim turned the light on and found the clue immediately, in another black envelope attached to the arrow that had almost split his skull.  He handed it to Dick, who took the letter in a quaking hand.  He pulled the next slip of paper out and read it out loud.  “It’s too late for him, his fate is done.  He must come along and join your fun.  Find a place that held much fear.  Hide and seek, your target is near.”

The brothers were silent for a minute, thinking about the clue.  Tim spoke up, “Wait, so now I have to come along with you on your quest to find…what?”

“To find whoever took Damian, and where they have him hidden.  These clues have already threatened both of your lives.  It may be safer if you do come with me.  And, I would much rather have someone with me when we confront whoever is behind this.”

“Okay, but where do we look next?  ‘Find a place that held much fear’, what does that mean?”  Tim looked puzzled.

Dick was feeling just as puzzled, “Not only that, but is the clue talking to me or you?”

Tim met Dick’s eyes, “It has to be you.  I think the ‘he’ and ‘him’ referred to me, and the ‘your’ referred to you.  Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever been scared of the manor.  We are assuming that the clues are referring to places in and around the house, right?  I mean, so far, everything has been inside the house.  You grew up here, what scared you?”

Dick snorted, “Back then?  I think a safer question would be ‘what didn’t scare me?’”

Tim rolled his eyes, “Okay, what scared you the most?”

A haunted look crossed Dick’s face as he said, “The third floor.  Come on, I had to have told you about this.  No?  Well, right after I came to live here, there was a huge hurricane.  It shut down the city for days.  The three of us were stuck here, and tensions got a little too high.  Bruce was trying to work from home, and I was trying to cheer him up.  He got a call that Wayne Tower was flooding, and it set him off, and scared the hell out of me.  I ran off, but soon calmed down and was looking for something to do to stay out of Bruce’s way.  I decided to explore the house, since Bruce had never finished my tour.  I found the stairs for the third floor and went up there to look around.  I didn’t know that the door to the stairs had a tendency to close on its own.  I got turned around, and my mind started to run away with me.  I was convinced that I was living in a haunted house.  Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Tim asked as he rose and followed his brother out of the room.

Dick threw a creaky door open, revealing a spiral metal staircase.  “The third floor.  Make sure you prop the door open.”

The brothers entered the dusty hallway, and both gave an involuntary shiver.  Dick made sure to prop the door open before walking away from the portal.

“I’ve never been up here before, Dick.  How old were you when you came up here?”

Dick sighed, “It was just after my ninth birthday.  Three months after my parents died.  When I was up here, I found this drawing room.  I was playing with this old phone, when Alfred’s voice came through.  It was the old intercom system.  I told him that I was lost and scared, and Alfred, bless his heart, told me that I couldn’t be scared because Bruce and I were playing hide and seek.  I knew he was just trying to keep me from panicking again, but it worked.  I hid in the drawing room until Alfred could talk Bruce into coming to look for me.  It felt like hours, but it must have only been about a half an hour.”

The boys entered the drawing room as Dick finished his tale.  He looked fondly at the dust-covered armchair where Bruce had made his fears go away.  Meanwhile, Tim looked around the room, noticing all of the things that Dick had almost twenty years previous.

“This room hasn’t changed since I was here last time.  Jesus, Tim.  That was just about twenty years ago.  Tim?”

The teen was looking at the mantle over the fireplace.  “Is this the phone?”

Dick looked up with a smile, “That’s it.  As Alfred said, the old butler line.”

“Used to call the old butler?”  Tim turned to look over his shoulder at Dick.

Dick walked over and hugged Tim, confusing him until Dick explained, “Tim, I said that exact same thing to Alfred.  I felt so bad for saying it out loud, but he just laughed.  Tim!”

Dick pointed at the mantle.  Under the phone sat another black envelope.  Tim’s hand was shaking as he picked it up and handed it to Dick.  “I swear, I didn’t see that there when I first looked at the phone.  Are we sure that the manor isn’t haunted?”

Dick didn’t answer.  Instead, he pulled the next clue from its glossy, if a bit dusty, abode.  Dick read aloud.  “You used me once to call a man, who cares for the house and follows the plan.  He’s not involved, but it would be no chore, to seal his fate upon his door.”

Dick took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself.  “Now, whoever it is has gone and threatened Alfred.  This one is too obvious, which tells me that we need to hurry.  If they hurt one silver hair on his head, they’re dead.  Let’s go, Timmy.”

Tim silently followed Dick out of the third floor, down to the first floor, and into the kitchen.  They could see that Alfred had started making breakfast, but the man was nowhere to be found.

“No, not Alfred, too.  What do we do now, Dick?”  Tim sounded scared.

“Let’s see, what to do, what to do…”  Dick read the clue again.  “’Seal his fate upon his door.’  Let’s go check his rooms.”

As they walked towards Alfred’s portion of the house, Tim asked, “Dick, that was an incredibly personal story.  Who did you tell about your time on the third floor?”

Dick stopped to think, “Well, Alfred and Bruce, of course.  Um…Barbara, Wally, Jason, Damian.  I think I told Leslie and Uncle Clark, and maybe Aunt Diana, too.  Why?”

Tim looked a bit depressed at the list.  “Oh.  Just trying to narrow down the possible list of suspects, that’s all.”  Tim looked away from his older brother.

Dick placed his hands on Tim’s shoulders, “Tim, I didn’t mean anything by not telling you earlier.  I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you, it just never came up between us.  Please don’t think I did that intentionally.”

“I-I don’t.  I’m sorry, I shouldn’t feel that way.”

“Tim, our relationship has had to cover far more than silly superstitions.  Out of everyone on that list, you are probably the one I have spent the least amount of time with.  That’s my fault, not yours, and it wasn’t for lack of interest.  You know that.  I think, the fact that we are as close as we are speaks volumes.  I’ve never told anyone this, but I think that you are the closest of any of us to an actual brother.  And before you retort that Damian and I are closer, remember that I said brother.  We’re trying to build the brother part now, because when Bruce was gone, he looked at me like a father.  He’ll never admit that, but I could see it.  Now, he has to change his view of me, but it still leads to a fair bit of closeness.  But, whenever I think about which of my brothers is an actual brother, you are always on top of that list.  Don’t ever forget that.”

Tim couldn’t help but smile, “Thanks, Dick.”

“Any time.  Actually, if you think about it, the two who should be the closest are you and Damian.  Bruce was actually able to adopt you, and Damian is his naturally.  The best he could ever do for Jason and myself was permanent guardianship, but you were his first success at adoption.”

Tim’s cheeks began to flush, “Yeah…well…Let’s just find the mini-bat first.”

They turned back down the hallway, but stopped in their tracks.  On the door was another black envelope.  They approached slowly, acutely aware that they were essentially in a dead end of the manor.  As Dick carefully pulled the package from the wood, Tim was watching the other end of the hall, ensuring that they were not approached from behind.

Dick read the next clue, “The eight of us go forth, not back, to protect our king from our foe’s attack.”

Tim hung his head, “Great, whoever it is brought henchmen.  Can this morning get any worse?”

Dick looked up sharply, “Don’t say that, Tim.  You know as well as I that this day can get _much_ worse.  I don’t think this means henchmen in the traditional sense.”

Tim’s eyes grew, “Wait, I think I know this one.  Protect the king, only move forward, I think it means chess pawns.  Let’s go to the game room.”

As they trotted down the hall, Dick patted Tim on the shoulder.  “Good thinking, Timmy.  That one had me stumped.”

Entering the game room, Dick said, “Well, at least we’re getting our exercise this morning.”

They approached the low table in front of the couch and found the Wayne family’s antique chess set, set up to look like it was in the middle of a game.  The pieces were arranged in a Queen’s Gambit maneuver, and one side had just conceded.  The white king was lying on its side in the traditional gesture of capitulation.

“I wonder what that could mean,” Dick said as he reached down and picked up the piece.  As it came off the board, a bright red flash erupted from the chessman, as a slip of magician’s flash paper burst into life.  The surprise pyrotechnics caused the brothers to jump backwards several steps while shielding their eyes from the blinding light in the dusky room.

Breathing heavily at the shock, Tim said, “Well, wasn’t expecting that.”

Dick was waving at the stars flashing in front of his vision before looking back at the table.  There, under the corner of the ornate chess board, was the next black envelope.  “I picked up the king, you can get the envelope.”

Tim gave Dick a sneer and said, “Gee, thanks, big brother.  I can see you’re all chivalry over there.”  Still, Tim dragged the envelope out from under the board as slowly as he possibly could, averting his eyes to protect them from any more flashes.  Without any fresh surprises, Tim picked up the envelope and read the clue on the enclosed paper.  “Your little one is almost through.  If you lose him now, what will you do?  To find me now won’t take much luck, if you just go out and view the ducks.”

Dick shrugged and said, “Let’s go to the pond, I guess.”

The sun had barely begun to rise on another clear, late summer morning.  The grass between the house and the pond, a half mile away, was still covered in morning dew.  The well-remembered path was slick underfoot, but neither man slowed their progress until they were in sight of the small body of water.

“Well, Tim, where do you think we should look for the next…oh, never mind.”  Dick was about to suggest splitting up to find the next clue, when he looked down and saw it on a rock right next to the pond, encased in a zip-loc bag.  Both Dick and Tim couldn’t help noticing that the bag was of a different brand than Alfred bought, which allowed the brothers to continue believing they were under siege from an outside entity.

Dick opened the bag and took the note out of the envelope.  “Let’s see, ‘You were once warned of protection needed.  My words were heard, but went unheeded.’  Any ideas, Timmy?”

Tim thought for a minute before making a suggestion.  “Maybe Bruce’s study?”

Dick looked confused, “Why do you say that?”

Tim’s cheeks blushed, “Well, that’s where Bruce and I…you know…had _the talk_.”

Dick burst out laughing, “Really?  Bruce actually sat you down and had the talk with you?  Sometimes that man is adorable.”

Tim looked down and said, “He felt he had to, I had a pretty serious girlfriend at the time.  Remember?”

Dick did remember, vaguely.  “Did you get her pregnant?”

Tim’s head snapped up, “What?  No!  Do you honestly think Bruce wouldn’t have ripped my head off if I got a girl pregnant while still in school?”

“No, you’re right.  And, since I don’t have any kids, either…wait, you _don’t_ have any children, do you?”

Tim thought before saying, “Not to the best of my knowledge, but knowing this family, anything could come along ten years after a girlfriend.”

Dick shuddered, “We’ll find him, Timmy.  Right now, let’s just assume that it has nothing to do with future Robins, and think about other means of protection.  Let’s go back inside.”

They began their trek back to the house, but before they made it ten steps, the lawn sprinklers turned on, drenching the two men.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me.  How are we this unlucky, Dick?”

Dick thought hard, “We’re not.  The timers are set for two thirty in the morning.  Someone changed these to go off when we were at the pond.”

Tim looked around, acutely nervous.  “Do you think someone is watching us?  Tracking us as we jump through their hoops?”

“I think so, Tim.  Like I said before, whoever this person is, is dangerous.”

They hurried their pace back to the house, slipping several times on the wet grass.  When they reached the back door, the sprinklers turned off.

“Convenient,” Tim said.

Dick was getting suspicious, “I don’t think so.  I’m going to try something.”  Dick ran back onto the lawn, and the sprinklers turned back on.  He got to the back porch, and they turned off again.  Again, one step onto the grass resulted in the water coming back on.  It went off again as soon as his foot left the turf.

Dick returned to Tim’s side and said as quietly as he could, “We’re being watched, no doubt about it.  We have to assume that there are cameras and listening devices in the manor as well.  No unnecessary talking until we get this figured out.”

Entering the house again increased the creepy quotient of the morning.  On the bench next to the door lay two clean towels that had not been there when they left the house twenty minutes before.  Checking for more surprises, they carefully picked up the towels.  Finding nothing, they dried off, left their wet socks on the bench, and put on the slippers that were under the bench.  One meeting of the eyes relayed that they were having the same thought.  The clue may have said that Alfred was not involved, but that may not have been completely true.  It also meant that if Alfred truly wasn’t involved, then whoever the culprit was, was following them as they went.

Dick was hopeful that, if they were being followed, then maybe they were only one clue away from catching up with the prankster.  Tim wasn’t so sure, as they still had no clue what their current clue meant.

They wandered into the entryway, thinking to themselves about what the clue could mean.  Tim turned in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings.  Down the familiar hallway, Tim glanced at the clock, leading to the cave.  Another ten feet down the hallway was a suit of armor, shining dully in the early morning light.  Tim cocked his head in thought, and remembered an exchange in this very hallway, a little over a year ago.  _As for Pennyworth, maybe you should take this when you see him_.  Damian had left a shield for protection from the wrath of the butler after missing an important dinner while on an investigation.

Tim nudged Dick and pointed down the hall at the suit of armor.  A smile broke out on Dick’s face as he whispered, “We, who are about to die, salute you.”

Tim gave a slight nod, and they moved to the hallway side by side.  Entering the hallway, they felt a nearly invisible trip wire touch their shins.  They stopped immediately, but it was too late, the trap had already been triggered.  While Dick was looking for more hidden crossbows, Tim watched as, down the hall, the poleaxe held by the suit of armor came loose and fell forward, its sharpened edge glinting in the light as it gained speed and buried its blade in a neatly positioned log on a cushion with a dull thunk.

Tim and Dick watched for a second with jaws agape.  Tim broke out of his shock first and said, “That could have killed us if we had been moving faster.”

Dick squinted, his eyebrows drawing down in concentration.  “I don’t think so, Tim.  I think it did exactly what it was supposed to.  Look where the tripwire is in comparison to where the suit of armor is.  Even if we were running, we still would have missed the blade.  And look, why set up something to catch the blade if it’s just meant to take our heads off.  That was padded to muffle sound.  That wasn’t meant to hurt anyone, just to scare us.”

Tim shook his head, “Well, it worked.”

They approached the suit and found the next black envelope taped to the shield.  “This is getting old, Tim.  We better be close to the end.  Ahem, ‘Take a look upon my face, you won’t find thirteen anyplace.  Or, turn around, you idiots.”

Tim spoke to the ceiling, assuming they were being overheard, “Oh, come on.  We’ve jumped through your hoops so far, no need to insult us.”

Dick turned around to the clock.  There was an envelope leaning against the base of the clock.  The point of the poleaxe was aimed directly at the envelope, just in case they missed it.  “Ready?  Okay.  ‘Come down and see if you’re in time.  Dawdle not, for he’s still mine.  Over you I will not lord, if you come down and get your just reward.’  That sounds like an end to me.”

They looked at the face of the clock, and both stopped in fright.  The clock opens when set to 10:48, in honor of the time when Bruce’s parents were killed.  Once opened, the hands reset to 5:32.  Right now, the clock was set to 10:45.  Someone had made sure to pique their curiosity and ensure that they were followed into the cave.

They entered the stairway, and Dick leaned over to whisper in Tim’s ear, “On your guard, Timmy, we don’t know what’s down here.”

Tim whispered back, “Whoever they are, they can’t win.  This is our home turf, we know all the secrets down here.”

“You forget, they have Damian as a hostage.  I find it hard to believe that he would give up anything, but torture does strange things to people.”

Tim placed a hand on Dick’s shoulder, “Don’t think about that.  He’ll be fine.  We’ll find him and get him out.”

They descended into the cave slowly.  The high-backed computer chair was swiveling back and forth, keeping the occupant from view.  On the big screen, several film clips played on repeat.  Hidden cameras had captured Dick hitting his head on the serving tray, Tim being hit in the head by the arrow, both brothers jumping in fright as the flash paper ignited, and their long, wet trudge back to the house under the sprinklers.

They watched for a second before Dick said, “Who are you?  Why are you doing this?  Where’s Damian?”

“Freeze, kiddos,” the unmistakable voice of the Joker echoed throughout the cave.  Since it was the last thing either expected to hear, they froze to the spot, under a pair of spot lights.

Tim turned his head to Dick in fear, and opened his mouth to ask what they were going to do next, when they were assaulted from above.

_Splat!  Splat!_   Buckets of cream-filled balloons rained down on the brothers, covering most of their upper bodies in fragrant cream.

When the deluge stopped, both Dick and Tim were too shocked to do anything.  Wiping the cream out of their eyes, they made to move towards the Joker in the chair.

“Hold still!”  Batman boomed out.  Again, the brothers froze in their spot, this time happy to do so if it meant that Batman would be taking on the Joker.

_Splash!  Splash!_   Buckets of water balloons came crashing down from above, soaking the boys for the second time that day.  The liquid projectiles cleared away enough of the cream for the boys to gape in wonder as the chair turned in their direction to reveal Damian, sitting with his elbows resting on and armrests and his fingers steepled in front of his face.

“DAMIAN!?!  Where’s the Joker?” Dick asked, when it appeared that the boy was unharmed.

The Joker’s voice came from the child’s mouth, “Sorry, Bird Boy.  It’s just me.”

Tim knew the answer, but asked anyway, “Batman?”

The Dark Knight’s voice, rough on Damian’s throat, emanated next, “Still asleep, upstairs.  At least, he should be, if you followed all of my clues correctly.”

Dick and Tim approached slowly, “What is this all about, Little D?”

Damian said simply, “I told you I would get my revenge.”

They absorbed the statement for a minute before Dick spoke again.  “You put all this together in response to a water balloon?”

“No.  This went far beyond a water balloon.”

Tim was vaguely scratching at his neck as he asked, “Why, Damian?  Ah…what kind of cream is this?  It’s starting to tingle.”

Damian waited another half a minute before responding, “I think you two should hit the showers.  It’s really not safe to leave that stuff on for too much longer.  I was at least kind enough to put some clean pajamas and towels in there for you.”

Dick saw the serious look on the boy’s face and pulled Tim towards the locker room as he said, “Yeah.  That might be a good idea.  Let’s get cleaned up, Tim.  D, you had better still be down here when we get out.  I demand an explanation.”

They left quickly for the showers.  As soon as the water in both showers turned on, Damian followed them into the room and sat on the bench, waiting.

He didn’t have to wait long.  A scream echoed from Dick’s shower, soon followed by one from Tim’s shower.  Damian was smiling as they both stuck their heads out of the enclosures.

“Damian, what kind of cream is this?”  Dick asked, a note of fear in his voice.  In his hand was a glob of cream with a hairball sticking out of it.  The hairball corresponded to a bald patch on his head.

“Nair.”

Damian had never seen eyes grow as big as they did on Dick and Tim.  Dick responded first, “Damn it, Damian.  What kind of sick joke is this?  This goes over the line.  Jokes are one thing, this is too far.”

After several more minutes, Damian’s older brothers finished their showers and exited their cubicles.  Damian handed towels to the dripping men and waited for them to dry off and dress.  They were both not quite bald, but more so that they ever hoped to be.  Both had small patches of hair remaining on the back and sides of their heads, but not enough to salvage.

Both men stood over the boy as he sat on the bench.  Damian stood his ground against dual glares.

Dick finally said, “Alright, young man.  Explain yourself.”

“I told you, I would get my revenge.”

Tim spoke, “This is a bit extreme for a single water balloon.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed in anger, “This isn’t a single water balloon, Drake.  This is the culmination of two years of torture.”

Dick and Tim were taken aback, “Torture?  What do you mean, torture?”

“Yeah.  We may not have always gotten along, but it could hardly qualify as torture.”

Damian closed his eyes, “If I had still been an assassin, neither of you would still be alive after the things you have done to me.”

Tim scoffed, “We can’t have been that bad.  We haven’t done that much to you, and it was all in fun.  You know, jokes.”

Damian’s head snapped up, “Which list do you want first, Drake?  Civilian or mask?”

Thinking they were going to get more explanation that he expected, Dick said, “Let’s sit down for this.  I have a feeling we might be here for a while.”

Damian was still annoyed as his brothers sat on either side of him.  “I’ll start with the civilian list.  It’s the shorter of the two.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Okay, how about the field day at school?  You convinced me that the clown performing was working for the Joker, and the only way to stop his plot was to volunteer to be his assistant.  You said it was so one of us would be close when he made his move.  I remember you laughing just as hard as everyone else when he hit me in the face with the whipped cream pie.  Or, how about last summer’s Wayne Enterprises company picnic?  You told me it was a black tie event.  I showed up to a pool party in a tuxedo.”

Tim added, “Hey, at least I stopped Dick from throwing you in the pool while you were in the tuxedo.”

“Okay, so that one could have been worse, but it was still embarrassing.  How about when I started school?  You sent a note to my teachers telling them I was hard of hearing, and they had to yell at me to make sure I could hear them?  How about when you gave Titus grape juice to turn his tongue purple so you could convince me that he was sick?  That was just mean.”

Dick nodded, “Yeah, that one was not one of our better conceived plans.”

Tim glared, “One of _your_ plans.  I told you that one was wrong.”

Damian’s voice was getting higher as the hurt of each slight came back, “How about the blonde hair dye in my shampoo?  Or when you stole last years’ Halloween costume and replaced it with a Wonder Woman outfit?  I was actually looking forward to going out trick or treating with you, but you had to ruin it.  How about when you tried to convince me that the James Bond movies were actually documentaries about Pennyworth’s time in the British Army?  That one was almost believable, but he was hurt when I asked him about it.  Your pranks don’t just hurt me, they hurt him, too.”

Dick and Tim started to look ashamed at the litany of grievances being filed against them.  They were all true, the brothers just didn’t know that they were so painful to the boy.

“Moving on to the mask list.  Was it very nice to cut a happy face out of my cape?  Or sew fake breasts onto my Robin tunic?”

Tim snorted in laughter at that one, “I told you, you were supposed to be a red-breasted Robin.  That’s funny, come on.”

Damian met laughter with a glare, “It’s embarrassing, and I had to miss a patrol for that, until I could get them removed and my tunic fixed.  How about when you glued the pouches of my utility belt shut?  Something like that could get us killed in the field, and you think it’s a joke.  How about at Thanksgiving, when you filled my gloves with mashed potatoes and my boots with stuffing?  Then, you left me to explain to Pennyworth why _your_ joke was wasting good food.  I respect Pennyworth, I don’t need to have things like that happen when I’m trying to build better relationships.”

Dick looked down at his lap, “That one was a little far.”

Damian grew more annoyed, “What about the time you painted the inside of my mask, so that I still had a mask outline on my face after I took it off?  Or the time you replaced my mask adhesive with super glue?  Do you know how long it took for my eyebrows to grow back?  I’ll tell you how long; just as long as it will take for your hair to grow back.  Do you know how much it hurts to try to rip super glue off of your face?  How about when you replaced my Batarangs with plastic toy versions that you bought at Walmart?  I was lucky enough to catch that one before Father saw, and before we left on patrol.”

Tim gave a weak smile, “We thought you would like them.”

Damian grew very serious.  “How about when you painted my gloves with glow-in-the-dark paint?  We went on a stakeout that night, and I almost blew the whole thing when my gloves were spotted by our target.  Father yelled at me for that one.  He blamed me for your joke.  He would have taken me off patrol if he didn’t need me the next night.  Or, how about when you two shoved me through the Zeta Tube to the Watchtower while Father was at a JLA meeting, and scrambled the return code so I couldn’t get back?  Not only did he yell at me for that one, too, but he took me off patrol for two weeks and grounded me in civilian life for the same two weeks.”

Damian ran out of steam on his rant.  All three looked down at the floor, unable to make eye contact.  Damian didn’t know that he had so much built up, and Dick and Tim didn’t know that all of those events held such pain for their brother.

Tim made a quiet comment, “Just about all of those are things that Dick did.  Why exactly did I deserve an arrow to the forehead and a premature balding?”

Damian slowly looked up at Tim and spoke in a quiet voice, “Because of the names.  As hurtful as everything else was, the names hurt more.  I will admit, I deserved them when I first came here.  I treated you terribly, Drake.  We have slowly been getting over it, but the names are still around.”

“I haven’t called you a name in months, Damian.”

Damian shook his head, “No, but I can tell that it is only through sheer force of will at times.  Even if you never call me a Demon Brat again, the name is still out there, and is still used by many in the hero trade.  I know, Grayson, you are going to say that is because they don’t know me like you do and are holding on to old preconceived notions of my attitude and behavior, but they still call me that, and not always behind my back.  It hurts that they dismiss me like that, but it hurts more that they do it with a name that _you_ are credited with making up.”

They were silent for another minute before Dick said, “Besides the names, everything else you mentioned was meant as a joke.  There was no ill will behind any of it.  I’m truly sorry our pranks got you in trouble with Bruce and Alfred, I didn’t know that happened.  I would have said something to Bruce if I had known that our jokes were getting you grounded and pulled from patrol.  But you have to understand that it was all meant to be in fun.”

Damian whispered, “It wasn’t.  You saw it as fun; you saw it as bonding.  I saw it as making a mistake.  I gave up everything to come and be with my Father, to be with my brothers, even if I didn’t know what ‘brothers’ meant.  When the jokes and pranks and social embarrassments started, the only frame of reference I had told me that I wasn’t wanted here, that I was valued more as an object of scorn than as an equal member of the group, that my purpose here was not to be useful, but merely pandered to.”

Dick placed an arm around Damian’s shoulders, “No, Damian.  It was meant to be the exact opposite.  I think you know that now, but I’m sorry that couldn’t have been explained then.  Sometimes, we forget that you didn’t grow up the same way we did.  That’s a good thing, though, because it shows just how well you’ve fit in to life here.  I…I just wanted to include you, not as a target, but as family.”

They were quiet again, introspective this time, instead of guilty.  Damian finally mumbled, “I thought it would feel different.”

“What?”

“I said, I thought it would feel different.  You know, this, getting payback for everything that was done to me.  I thought I would feel good, feel vindicated, righteous.  I just feel guilty.”

Dick pulled his brother in close, “You shouldn’t.  This was a masterful prank.  I never could have thought this up.  You had me convinced that we had been compromised and invaded.  I really thought there was a chance that I was going to lose my family.  I am glad you included Timmy.  There were a couple riddles I couldn’t figure out that he got.  How long have you been planning this?”

Damian gave a half-smile at the praise, “Two weeks.  It took that long to come up with the rhymes.  I can draw anything, but creative writing is not my specialty.  I guess I should get started on cleaning up.  Pennyworth told me that I was responsible for any messes.”

Tim was dumbfounded, “Wait, Alfred knows about this?  He approved of all this?”

“No.  I mean, he knows that something was going down today.  I didn’t go into details when he tried to talk me out of it this morning.  He almost had me when he said Father was working from home today, but by then everything had been set up, and it was too late to change anything.  I couldn’t have gotten upstairs before the alarm went off.  You were already in the Observatory by the time I had the last of my preparations done.”

“So you were watching,” Dick stated.

“Of course.  I had to know when to set out the towels and slippers in the back.  I promised Pennyworth there wouldn’t be any messes for him to clean up.”

Tim clapped Damian on the shoulder, “How about this?  You clean up down here, and we will take care of upstairs.  Sound like a deal?”

Damian looked up with the first pleasant expression he had held all morning, “You would do that?  It’s really just the suit of armor in the hallway and the crossbow in your room.  Oh, and don’t forget the tripwire across the hall.  Thanks.”

Dick and Tim left while Damian got a hose and began spraying down the drying Nair on the cave floor.  He was just about done when Dick and Tim returned to the cave.

“Hey, D.  Everything upstairs is taken care of.  There is just one more thing that needs to be done.”

Damian looked at the smirk on Dick’s face and instantly grew wary.  _Is this going to end in me having to come up with something to top this morning?  Because, I’m out of ideas right now._   “What’s that?”

“This,” Dick pulled out an electric hair clipper from behind his back as he and Tim walked towards the youth.  Damian nervously began backing up, away from his brothers, until he was cornered at the computer terminal.

“Hey, can’t we just call this even?  No more jokes?  No more payback?  Huh?  _Please_?”

Dick approached within a foot of Damian and held up the clippers.  Damian winced and turned his head, expecting to be held down and shaved.  He was greatly surprised when Dick flipped the clippers around in his hand and offered them to Damian.  Damian looked confused as he took the implement.

Dick smiled as he turned around and kneeled down in front of the child.  Tim soon joined him as Dick said, “You have to complete your work.  We can’t go to work like this.  Come on, shave off the rest of it, before I decide that I should take the clippers back and give you a matching haircut.”

Damian told them to wait a second, and ran back to the locker room.  There, he grabbed a towel and a guide comb for the clippers.  He returned soon and wrapped the towel around Dick’ shoulders before shaving off the last scruffy patches.  He turned to Tim and completed the job there as well, leaving two perfect cue balls.  When they stood again, Damian snapped the guide comb on the clippers and handed it back to Dick.  Dick cocked his head with a smile.  Damian returned the look and said, “It’s getting a little shaggy, anyway.”

Dick turned the boy around and began cutting his hair as Tim said, “Brothers really do stick together.”

_Later…_

Bruce yawned as he walked down the stairs for breakfast.  He felt good this morning.  An extra couple hours of sleep on a regular work day always did that for him.  He was looking forward to getting some paperwork done, then knocking off early to spend some time with his boys.  They were all under the same roof so infrequently anymore, he relished all the extra time spent with them that he could get.

Entering the dining room, he stopped cold, and prayed that he was still asleep.  His boys were sitting at the table, in the middle of their breakfast.  They seemed to be in good moods, even closer than they had been the night before.

“Alfred!” the man called from the doorway to the dining room.  The three boys looked up from their conversation and greeted their father warmly.

The butler entered the dining room with a steaming cup of coffee.  “Good morning, Master Bruce.  Did you sleep well?”

Confused, Bruce said, “Fine, Alfred.  Um…Alfred?  Is there any reason that the Lex Luthor Fan Club is having their breakfast meeting in my dining room?”

“Whatever do you mean, sir?  Here is your coffee.  I will be right back with your breakfast.”  The butler smirked at the confusion.

“Wait, Alfred.  They _are_ bald, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is this one of those mornings where I’m going to be glad I slept in?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you plan on telling me anything more than that?”

“No, sir.  The boys are perfectly capable of speaking for themselves.  I will return with your breakfast, sir.”  Alfred swept out of the room.

Instead of taking his normal place at the head of the table, Bruce sat next to Damian, across from Dick and Tim.  Running a hand through the younger boy’s buzz cut, Bruce asked, “Can I assume that, since you still have some hair left, that you won?”

Damian shrugged, “I suppose so, Father.”

“Are any of you planning on telling me what exactly happened this morning?”

The three brothers looked at each other for a long minute before they broke down, laughing.  Bruce was secretly overjoyed that all of his sons were getting along so well, despite the lack of hair surrounding the table.  _So long as they keep laughing, I don’t care what they do.  This makes me happy._

“Seriously, boys.  What happened?”

Dick took a deep breath to calm his laughter and said as seriously as he could, “Well, Bruce, payback is a bitch.”

 

**A/N:  Here’s another one for all of you.  Hope you like it, and were able to catch all of the references to my other stories.  Sorry for the terrible rhymes, and yes, I did steal a couple of them from Batman Forever.**

**Thanks for playing along, like always, there is more to come from my universe.**

**Standard Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.**


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